an exercise in writing; an exercise in wanting.
This living thing – this breathing, excreting, making-someone-else’s-dinner-thing – I want to play my cards right and have an emotion for every occasion. I want to be good at this game and not just go through the motions; I want to learn all the strokes like it’s synchronised swimming.
I want to be different names to different people. I want to be Madeleine, Ingrid, Kate and Regina. To my mother, I want to be Darling; to the history teacher I won’t admit to lusting after, Dollface. Like I said, I want to be different names to different people because it means a thousand and seven adjectives to grow into, like disarming or steadfast, and I need these ambitions because I don’t ever want to become complacent.
I want to know everything there is to know about physics, so I can hate it with a basis. I don’t want to hate inertia and The Law of Perpetual Transmutation of Energy just because I’m a blind man in sheep’s clothing and every pretty girl in my generation claims to hate physics.
And on the topic of being blind, I want to date a blind man and kiss his eyelids in the park. I want to describe the children’s expressions to him in terms of feeling, like the little girl chasing after the duck has the face you get when you first turn on the shower and the water spews out in a cold fury.
I want to hold my fourteen-year-old-self by the wrists and apologise for ever thinking that self-worth could only be attained through being with someone, as if wearing the suffix of ‘girlfriend’ was the only job title worthy of mention. I want to apologise to her for refusing to know better and for thinking that conviction and the occasional wit weren’t enough to define me.
I want to make eye-contact with a pale red-haired girl at the station to ask for the time just because I want to hear her accent. She’ll say, “It’s five twenty-three forever,” because her watch is actually dead and her grandfather smashed this very watch on a rock the moment he died. I wont ask about the circumstance even though I want to, so instead I might tell her that I was born out of wedlock. And we’ll plough on for the rest of the day, keeping someone else’s secret as if to take a break from our own.
For only a night, I want to be the wife of a man who comes home with someone else’s lipstick stains on his collar and someone else’s scent on his skin because I want to know what being a martyr feels like. I want to know what it’s like to make a perfect roast dinner with buttered potatoes while the world crumbles and the children think that their biggest concern is that Rochelle is having an ice-skating party and they are not invited. I want to learn how to suffer gracefully, only giving myself three minutes in the shower everyday to cry.
I want to cut my hair really short and move to Spain and live in a small apartment in a small town with a name I can’t pronounce. I want to wear dresses for everything, from grocery shopping to watching bulls run around in a ring with a matador. I want to stop in the street and say, “Marry me, guapo,” to all the handsome dark-haired strangers even though I don’t mean it, just because it’s careless. And at least once, I’d have the liberty of knowing what it’s like to be reckless with my youth.
Ultimately, when I read excerpts of my unfinished, auto-biographical manuscript to my grandchildren, I want them to say it sounds like fiction. I want to call myself an artist with no-one else’s consent. I want to be proud of all the loose ends I’ve left untied because yeah, everyone wants to fulfill their prophecy, but who really wants to finish a path laid out by the stars?
I will surpass the stars.
Posted in: babyporridge, creative writing, desire, nikki malvar, prose, want, writing exercise on Tuesday, April 28, 2009 at at 10:44 PM
Inspiring. I'd say more but your literary genius has left me speechless and so I shall just repeat myself with the hope that you will take such repetition of positive comments as a suggestion to continue with your writing...
Inspiring!
To me, you are now known as Frank :)
I'm sure it's a nice adjective.
Nik- Frank, I like all your ambitions. But you can't just sit there writing blogs and wonder.
Anything is possible.
You just have to get up and do it.
:)
I just read the title.
I thought you were being serious..
Well, you sure fooled me. Don't ever stop writing, k? :)
That was wonderful.
I especially loved the bit with the red-haired girl. I'm not even exactly sure why. But I loved it.
You as a writer is something I admire.
So what's stopping you? Life is way to short!
Enjoy your time at Uni and learn all you can... just to realize (yes, I spell it with a Z!) how much more you have to learn.
Take those trips and chances, it's what defines a life well traveled and experienced.
Just don't talk about it... do it.
loved it.
This is absolutely exquisite. I want you to write hundreds of books so I can read them all and obsess over your glorious talent.
/Creepo.
But seriously, dayum, girl.
To be different things to different people can be very inspiring. Being somebody dependable for being good should be aspired for too. Having self-worth without validation is something everybody should have.
I'd rather be a martyr for ideas I really believe in rather than something social. Then again, I associate the word martyr with larger political or religious beliefs. I wanna hear somebody who's not older than me call me guapo because I've come to associate it with grandma's and aunties. As a person with a physical handicap, I'd hate to be with somebody who was just in a relationship with me just to say that they could describe or empathize with a disabled person to grandkids, with no promise that the disabled person is the one you ended up with. But that's just my own baggage.
I lose myself in your writing.
Ah,if only it was possible to favourite blogposts..
Wow. That was... wow. That was so inspiring and awesome and beautiful.
I think this is my favorite blog entry of yours to this date.
Never stop.
this is brillllliant :D
Thank you for such lovely comments! I just read this post of yours and I can see the poet in you. The red-haired girl was my favorite moment. The internet is a weird thing, and knowing that someone from Australia enjoys my blog writing is very flattering! Haha. Let's chat sometime! Do you use AIM? Sn: heysarawrr
wow, see, THIS is why it's hard for me to believe that you're like dust in my fat body flaps of blogging. Things like this puts anything I do to shame...To SHAME I say!
I want to make another comment to express to you how awesome I thought this was but I can't think of any words that would be able to express it. Nothing I could write can do justice to what I'm feeling right now. That was truly amazing Nikki! I can't think of any blog posts that made me ever feel speechless. That was just amazing and I feel like a 4 year old next to you. I really don't know what my blog could possibly have next to yours but I'm thrilled and proud that you actually read it. Even my crappy uninspired posts! I know I already said this but you totally put me to shame
Nicely done here Nikki. You're switching up your style here a bit too, which is interesting.
The last paragraph / sentence, is a killer You're so often great with such things.
this is beautiful, very inspiring. youre a wonderful writer, man. you should write a freaking book
This is so beautiful,
Truly inspirational.
Very Interesting Nikki,
Most of the other comments you have motivated others.
Me I was absorbed in the writing, Really enjoyed it.
Hope you are well.
Mike
You have a beautiful way with words. I wish I could write half as good as you! lol.
That was really quite fantastic.
I'll most definitely have to read through your previous posts.
I really like the way you write.
And hey. I stalked you from Youtube to here, and I hope you don't mind.
Wow, really enjoyed that. Will add your blog to my little list of blogs I keep an eye on =]
This might be able so sustain me for a while.
I feel like my soul has been running on empty for too long; it's funny how you manage to find a gas station right before you are completely exhausted.
You're such a bright, honest, charismatic person, and the world needs much, much more of that.
truly amazing!!
& i also like the way you write =)
i didn't like it. i didn't like its sweetness and disarming charm. 3 years ago, when I was deciding to migrate to Australia I would probably drink this lyrical liquor with pure enthusiasm. today I'm ripped from shaped by years identity. Sculptured by cynical reality stone. Regretful that can't enjoy. Circumstances are deciding factor in who you are and what you do. hope to see you published.
*sorry for my English
i want to say you have reminded me to believe in myself. and i hope you never become famous unless I do.
Hey Nikki, I'm still trying to figure out my plans for Australia, there are a lot of places to go and besides all the touristy places, I want to try to see some not so common places that are distinctly Australian if that's possible. I do know that I'll be there from the morning of the 27th to the 1st of August so I'll have 5 days roughly and I'll be at the Menzies. That's the extent of my planning lol. Like I said, I know I'm going to see the main attractions but I feel a little overwhelmed with everything I could do. Oh and good luck with assistant position. Not even a month ago I got in contact with my local radio station and told them that I would work as an intern but they didn't have anything available =/ I think I'll stalk and threaten their families until they take me! ...ooook probably not. In the meantime you can rock that assistant job for the both of us!
ngaw thats beautiful
That's absolutely gorgeous, and I realize this comment comes about a month after the fact, but I thought you should know how hard that hit me. Beautiful, and you just got another blog-reader.
if i'll die today i'll die
dude, i love the affair you have with your words,
i find expression through words does not come naturally to me.
with you i feel it flows like... good.
see i dont know what im doing